Edible Ball Bearings
by LiteratiAngel
Summary: "A flash of white; bright and shimmering. Crinoline. Suddenly the room hazily filled with the Union Flags of her past, drifting softly in a summer breeze from 1953. Orange juice and copper wire. Tea and cake. Facelessness. She shook her head gently. Not the same day, not the same her. Not the same colour." Alt!TenRose fluffy fluff of the fluff variety. Reviews are love.


**Edible Ball Bearings**

 **Disclaimer: We all know how this works. I don't own Doctor Who (especially the direct _Fear Her_ quote towards the end). I wish I did. Etc.**

 **A/N: This is a _really_ belated birthday present for my slutty tea boy, ConfusedInTime. It's fluffy, it's silly, it's nostalgic, and it's Alt!TenRose (because I re-watched recently and still squee over them). Reviews are love, as always! Go on, click the pretty button...you know you want to...**

 **...**

It was just an ordinary day; that was what she noticed more than ever now. The sheer mundane nature of each passing second. When Time was your plaything and you spent years travelling the cosmos only to pop back in time for a cup of tea on the same afternoon that you left, it becomes a little harder to see the joy in the everyday. But this day was no more ordinary than most. It should have been. She should have felt something more, something different, but there was nothing more than a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that something was missing.

She switched off the alarm, swiping hair out of her face before taking a good long look at the time. It always seemed to get away from her now. That must be why she had set it for such an ungodly hour. Still, there was that nagging feeling again. Something was missing, something had been forgotten, something was new, yet old. The sun was only just beginning to filter through the curtains, wearily highlighting the dust motes that hung in the air. But it was catching on something else too. She blinked, bleary-eyed, trying to make it out. To understand.

A flash of white; bright and shimmering. Crinoline. Suddenly the room hazily filled with the Union Flags of her past, drifting softly in a summer breeze from 1953. Orange juice and copper wire. Tea and cake. Facelessness. She shook her head gently. Not the same day, not the same her. Not the same colour. That crinoline had been pink and stiff, full of the promise of Elvis and mopeds and the hope that one day, that hand holding might become something more than just a whispered declaration. The vision of 1953's street parties and sunshine fades and she is back in her own bedroom again. Her eyes focused slowly as she squeezed them into submission, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from her face. Finally, she realised why her mind had harked back to an adventure so far away and so very long ago.

The dress was beautiful. Brilliant, even. Crisp, sparkling white, and yet almost surrounded in the soft focus haze of the old Bank Holiday musicals that she had watched growing up. _'S'wonderful, s'marvellous'_ it may have been, but there was a warm spreading of fear clutching at her stomach. The day had finally arrived.

…

Somehow, the rest of the morning passed in such a haze that she had no recollection of what had happened; only that Jackie had drunk a little too much champagne and had already succeeded in pinning her hat to the dog, while Pete had fallen easily into the rhythm of proud father, and had had to be forcibly removed from Mickey's arms after a pep talk had turned into a sobbing heart to heart. She had passed through it all, noticing nothing; a blur of noise and people and colour.

At the heart of it, she was afraid, and it wasn't a feeling that she was used to. Staring down the eyestalk of a Dalek? Piece of cake. Putting on that beautiful crinoline dress? Terrifying. She was shaking as she stepped into the stylish vintage car, with its unsubtle white bunting flapping obnoxiously in the light breeze. She had even cursed the sun for shining so brilliant while she felt so unsure of herself and of the day ahead. Crowds gathering at the side of the road cheered as they passed, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of her, done up like a porcelain doll in the back of the car. She wondered once again why he had insisted that they book everything for the first day of the Olympics when everywhere was sure to be rammed with people waiting to see the torch whizzing past them. She was sure that it was just another one of those situations that would perpetually confuse her until one day, realisation would dawn and he would puzzle over what took her so long.

Their arrival was heralded by more cheers, whoops, and exclamations of joy than she was really prepared for, and she began to wonder if so many more people had waited so much longer for this day to arrive than she had. Quite honestly, it made her wish that Henrik's had never blown up; that she had never taken an unknown hand, that she had never fallen in love with a time travelling marvel. Then she could have been in bed, blissfully oblivious of some other woman in some other universe who was wearing a white dress and trying desperately not to vomit on her unsuspecting relatives.

Finally, her feet dragged her towards the church doors; the (almost) very same church where she had met her father for the first time. She looked towards the altar, and there he was. Brown pinstriped suit, unruly hair, and the widest grin in the known universes. In his outstretched hand, there was a little fairy cake covered in white icing. She made her way towards him, puzzlement colouring her face. When she finally reached him after what seemed like an eternity, she finally understood.

On the little white cake, there were five tiny silver balls. She looked up at him. He grinned even wider.

His voice was soft when he eventually spoke, "Nobody else in the entire galaxy has even been bothered to make edible ball bearings. Genius."

Fear melted away. Rings were exchanged. Edible ball bearings were consumed in excess. She fell in love all over again.

They danced.


End file.
